


Matching Necklaces

by Vibing_n_Writing



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Neck Kissing, Self-Indulgent, a little spice as a treat, domestic sakuatsu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:20:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26197021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vibing_n_Writing/pseuds/Vibing_n_Writing
Summary: Sakusa frowned as he caught Atsumu’s eye, suddenly finding himself on the receiving end of a playfully challenging glare. “No. I’m not going to practice later today with hickeys all over my neck.”“Don’t’cha think it’s a bit too late for that, Omi?” Atsumu purred, glancing pointedly at the bruises forming on Sakusa’s throat.“Ugh, you asshole.”“You love it.”***2525 words of self-indulgent domestic sakuatsu + hickeys
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 24
Kudos: 696
Collections: ~SakuAtsu~





	Matching Necklaces

**Author's Note:**

> In case it wasn't already abundantly clear in the tags and summary, this is entirely self-indulgent bc sometimes you just need some nice, fluffy domesticity, y'know??
> 
> As always, kudos and comments are appreciated!!

Despite how much they bickered and made fun of one another, Sakusa had to admit that there was nothing like waking up to the feeling of Atsumu’s lips trailing feathery kisses up and down his bare spine.

It was a pleasant feeling, not unlike the warmth one might feel after taking that first sip of coffee in the morning. It made Sakusa feel sleepy yet electrified at the same time. Atsumu knew this too, and used it to his advantage—when in a good mood, sleepy Sakusa was much easier to deal with than regular Sakusa.

Sensing that the other man had woken up, Atsumu traveled farther upwards, kissing behind Sakusa’s ear.

Without bothering to open his eyes, Sakusa muttered, “Didn’t you have enough last night? I’m sore.” His voice was gravelly with sleep, but neither of them seemed to care much.

“It’s a new day, Omi-kun. ’Sides, I’ll be gentle.”

“...promise?”

“Mhm.”

The sheets rustled as Sakusa rolled over to face his boyfriend, his eyes half-lidded. He quietly assessed Atsumu’s face, appreciating the serenity in his expression that only seemed to make an appearance in the morning. Gently, Sakusa began carding his fingers through Atsumu’s hair, mussing up his already-atrocious bed head—Lord, Sakusa didn’t even want to think about how messy _his_ hair must be.

He was about to acquiesce, but paused and scrunched up his face.

“You have morning breath.”

Atsumu mirrored his expression, even as Sakusa rolled onto his back and draped an arm over his face.

“So d’you.”

There was a pause. Sakusa didn’t reply, which prompted Atsumu to keep talking.

“We don’t have to kiss if you don’t want to.”

Sakusa peeked out from under his arm, considering. On the one hand, personal hygiene was very important, and Atsumu’s breath smelled awful. On the other hand, Sakusa was feeling far too lazy to bother to get up and brush his teeth with Atsumu. He pursed his lips, letting his arm fall from his eyes.

Damn, Atsumu must have become a bad influence.

“Yes we do. C’mere.” He reached out, pulling Atsumu towards him. Atsumu seemed to get the hint, rolling on top of Sakusa and pressing their lips together.

Sakusa’s body moved on instinct: he shifted to accommodate Atsumu’s weight, his hands sliding up the other’s back while loosely wrapping a leg around whatever was convenient, which happened to be Atsumu’s calf.

Atsumu smiled into the kiss, breaking away after a few more seconds to huff out a laugh. Sakusa, on the other hand, made a face. Clearly, he had decided that the morning breath was still too much.

“What?”

Atsumu ducked his head to kiss at the nape of Sakusa’s neck, unperturbed by the other’s apparent irritation.

“Have I told’ya how much I love it when you cling to me, Omi-kun?”

This time, it was Sakusa’s turn to laugh—hardly any more prolonged than a cough, but a genuine laugh nonetheless. “Just every other day.”

As he spoke, Sakusa tilted his head to give Atsumu better access. His neck was entirely unblemished, which Atsumu seemed to want to make up for. Sakusa held onto his boyfriend a bit tighter as the insistent nips and kisses caused arousal to pool in his gut.

_”Atsumu…”_

Atsumu’s lips brushed against the conjunction between Sakusa’s neck and shoulder—a spot that Atsumu had learned to target a long time ago. Doing so did, after all, elicit some interesting reactions in the past—in such a way that made Sakusa’s toes curl. He briefly wondered how Atsumu had learned how to rile him up so quickly without even using his hands.

They continued like that for a while, Atsumu leaving the occasional hickey behind as he kissed across Sakusa’s exposed throat, while the latter held him close and sighed encouragement into his ear.

No matter how many times he heard it, Atsumu could never get enough of Sakusa’s voice. It was always a treat to hear him banter with his friends, call for a ball—hell, even when he was telling Atsumu to shut up, Sakusa’s low baritone charmed Atsumu as if it were magic.

But _this,_ feeling Sakusa’s breathy demands to “move a little higher… not that high… that’s my— _Atsumu!”_ tickling against his ear.

To put it bluntly, nothing turned Atsumu on more.

Of course, he would never tell Sakusa that; he’d only end up using this newfound power over Atsumu for evil.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Sakusa murmured, gently pushing Atsumu’s face away. He frowned as he caught Atsumu’s eye, suddenly finding himself on the receiving end of a playfully challenging glare. “No. I’m not going to practice later today with hickeys all over my neck.”  
“Don’t’cha think it’s a bit too late for that, Omi?” Atsumu purred, glancing pointedly at the bruises forming on Sakusa’s throat.

“Ugh, you asshole.”

“You love it.” Sakusa’s eye twitched the way it always did when he was annoyed, but he didn’t deny it. Atsumu shifted, easing his weight off of Sakusa. “Speaking of practice, what time is it?”

The sunlight illuminating the room wasn’t much to go off of—the most it could tell the couple was that it was definitely past dawn. Atsumu reached for his phone, sitting back on his haunches as he squinted at the screen. “Uhh… we don’t have morning practice today, do we?”

Sakusa stared up at him evenly. “No, we don’t.”

“Hmm… yeah,” Atsumu hummed, scrunching his eyebrows together in deep thought. “Yeah, I think we have time.”

“What time did you say it was right now?”

“Oh, wait, I didn’t,” Atsumu said, glancing at his phone again. “10:12, but that’s plenty of time, right?”

Sakusa pushed himself up onto his elbows as Atsumu set his phone down again. “Didn’t you promise to have lunch with Hinata before practice today?”

“Oh, shit, I did.”

Sakusa sighed and pulled Atsumu into a soft kiss. Atsumu eagerly reciprocated—Sakusa didn’t often initiate anything physical, but when he did, he made Atsumu feel like the luckiest man in the world.

He probably was, being the only one deemed worthy of sharing a bed with The Sakusa Kiyoomi every night.

After a few seconds, Sakusa pulled back. Atsumu chased after his lips on instinct, pressing one last kiss to the corner of Sakusa’s mouth. Sakusa didn’t mind.

“Do something about that morning breath, or I swear I’ll never kiss you again.”

Atsumu rolled off his (admittedly high-maintenance, not that he minded) boyfriend, finally allowing him to sit up. “You said that same thing three days ago.”

Sakusa pretended he didn’t hear. “You brush your teeth and figure out your lunch plans with Hinata; I’ll shower first.”

“Only if you make breakfast.”

“That’s the plan,” Sakusa agreed, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “I’m never even letting you use the toaster from now on.”

Atsumu was already halfway to the bathroom, but he heard Sakusa’s grumbling loud and clear. “Aw, Omi, are you saying you’ll cook for me for the rest of our lives? That’s so romantic.”

“No, I’m saying you’re a menace to society with a knack for setting things on fire.”

“Am not!”

“Are too.”

Sakusa found that, being around Atsumu so often, those kinds of childish retorts were becoming commonplace. He shuddered at the thought of what he might become with more of Atsumu’s influence.

That kind of influence was a two-way street, though.

Since they had started living together, Atsumu had adopted some of Sakusa’s routine: when he woke up, he washed his hands, brushed his teeth, and then took a quick but thorough shower. Another shower was usually thrown in there somewhere before he left. Sakusa usually nabbed the shower first, which gave Atsumu time to throw the bedsheets in the washer and put fresh ones on the bed (at first, he tried to take them to the laundromat only a short walk away, but Sakusa didn’t trust that it was entirely sanitary, so they got their own washer and dryer installed).

While he took his turn in the shower, Sakusa made breakfast. Atsumu tried to one-up him once and make breakfast himself as a surprise, but, well, let’s just say Osamu was the cook of the Miya family for a reason.

It was a terrible time to realize they didn’t own a fire extinguisher.

 _Never_ put water on an oil fire.

From then on, they made sure to clarify each morning that _Sakusa_ would be making breakfast. Just in case.

“Are we out of cold compresses?” Sakusa asked, sidling up behind Atsumu to inspect himself in the mirror.

Atsumu blinked, his toothbrush hanging precariously out of his mouth. “Ah phink sho.”

Sakusa scowled, leaving the bathroom and heading towards the kitchen. “Then I’m putting some spoons in the freezer. Don’t try to use them.” Atsumu made a noise of protest that Sakusa understood just fine. “I don’t care how hard you worked on them, I’m not showing up to practice with hickeys all over my neck.” Atsumu made another noise, much snarkier than the last. “Do you want me to aim my first serve into the back of your skull?”

Atsumu hastily took the toothbrush out of his mouth, spitting into the sink. “No!”

When eating breakfast, Sakusa tended to forego reading any sort of newsletter—Atsumu read the important bits out loud for him, not that he asked him to. Even if he wanted to read on his own, it would’ve been impossible to focus over Atsumu’s chatter.

Not that he minded it at all. Atsumu had a habit of talking as much as he could in the morning, almost as if he was emptying out all the information he’d gathered from the previous day to make room for the information to come. It was rather like wringing out a sponge.

Albeit, that’s exactly the kind of simile that would get Komori to double over laughing if it were ever said out loud. Of course Sakusa would equate his boyfriend with a cleaning supply.

Sakusa liked Atsumu’s voice though, annoying as he was. He wouldn’t have agreed to date Atsumu if he didn’t like him, after all. Besides, Atsumu carried a travel-sized bottle of hand sanitizer around with him, and made sure to ask before he touched Sakusa, just to accommodate to his germaphobia; getting used to Atsumu’s daily info-dumping was the least he could do in return.

“—oh! By the way, Bokkun said he wanted our help to propose to ‘Kaashi after our next game.”

“While we’re still on the court, I assume?” Sakusa mused, wincing at the chill of the spoon he placed over his most prominent bruise.

“Yup! We’re getting the whole team in on it, plus Jackasuke!”

“Even if we lose?”

Atsumu paused, setting down the protein shake he was about to drink. “Well, we jus’ won’t lose.”

“It’s still a huge possibility.”

“Not if we pull out all the big guns ‘n’ put in our best effort!” Atsumu offered. “How about you just pretend everyone on the other side of the net is Ushiwaka?”

Sakusa cocked an eyebrow, actually considering it. “We’ll see.” He shifted the spoon he was holding into his other hand, once again pressing it against his skin. His arms were starting to get sore from holding up chilled spoons to his neck since he got out of the shower. “Can I borrow your phone camera for a second?”

“Sure.” Instead of handing his phone over like Sakusa expected him to, Atsumu scooted over to Sakusa’s side with phone in hand. “You wanted to check yer neck, right? I’ll hold it so it’s easier.” He opened up the camera on his phone and flipped it around so Sakusa could see himself on the screen.

But Sakusa wasn’t looking at the screen, he was still looking at Atsumu. Somehow, the simple gesture got to him. It was stupid to feel so happy over someone holding up a phone for him, yet Sakusa couldn’t deny the swell of affection in his chest. With a small sigh, he set down the spoon.

“I’ve changed my mind.”

“Huh?”

Sakusa reached over and pulled Atsumu into a kiss, leaving the latter scrambling to set his phone down and reciprocate. “There’s no way these are going to fade by the time we have practice,” he mumbled.

“Mhm…” Atsumu was only half-listening.

“So…” Sakusa travelled lower. He pressed soft kisses against Atsumu’s jaw, making Atsumu reflexively curl his fingers into Sakusa’s t-shirt. “… if I have to be embarrassed in front of our teammates, you do too.”

“Wait… Kiyoomi…” Sakusa pulled back just enough to get a look at Atsumu’s face. Even though it wasn’t the first (and certainly not the last) time they’d kissed, Atsumu was blushing like a virgin. He gulped. “Uh… what happened to being sore?”

Sakusa clicked his tongue, wedging a knee between Atsumu’s thighs. Atsumu had never been more terrified or horny in his life.

“I got over it.”

Atsumu ended up running a bit late to lunch with Hinata that day. Hinata didn’t bother to think about why, until it was time for practice and Atsumu had to change out of his normal clothes.

“Are those—”

“Woah, Tsum-Tsum, did Omi _bite_ you?!”

Atsumu ducked his head, his face flushing uncharacteristically. He, Hinata, and Bokuto were crowded together in the locker room. Atsumu had just taken his shirt off; revealing hickeys and bite marks littered across his throat, shoulders, and collarbone.

With the fuss his two friends were making about those, Atsumu silently prayed that they wouldn’t notice the marks Sakusa left on the inner parts of his thighs.

“Oh, you know how Omi can be,” he offered lamely, hurriedly slipping a fresh t-shirt on.

Noticing his evident embarrassment, the two spikers didn’t pry. Bokuto gave Atsumu a hearty slap on the back before leaving, and Hinata flashed him a flustered thumbs-up.

Atsumu was quick to finish getting dressed and join the others. Of course, the first thing he saw as he entered the gymnasium was Meian trying his best not to burst out laughing.

“Hey, Miya, I noticed you and Sakusa have, er…” Meian bit his lip to suppress his grin. “Matching necklaces.” At that, he outright cackled, quickly excusing himself to catch his breath. Atsumu wished the rest of the world knew that the hardworking, mature captain of the MSBY Black Jackals actually had the humor of a 12-year-old boy.

As he quietly cursed his team captain to damnation, Atsumu caught Sakusa’s eye from where he was stretching on the floor. Looking at him and the handful of hickeys visible on his throat, the sting on Atsumu’s neck and thighs became all the more apparent. He narrowed his eyes.

_This is so disproportionate, you asshole._

Sakusa raised his eyebrows innocently, tilting his head to expose his neck.

_Then get me back later, you coward._

Atsumu spluttered and averted his gaze. Sakusa always seemed bent on one-upping him, riling him up, and tearing him down.

God, if he didn’t love it, though.

He rolled back his shoulders and turned towards Sakusa, who was still watching him through his lashes.

_Look forward to it._


End file.
